Food For Thought
by SKU-7314977
Summary: When Hannibal discovers that Will hasn't been eating, he takes it upon himself to fix the profiler's eating habits by bringing him home for a number of intimate cooking lessons. Contains: Cooking Lessons, Flirting, Porn, Cooking, Domestic, Fluff and Angst, Sexy Times, Food Kink, Flower Language, Hannigram
1. 01: First Course

Written by: DarkmoonSigel and SKU-7314977

Authors Notes: SKU here, I got the idea for this story and decided that it had to be written! But to be honest I know shit about food and (as I have learned while writing this) even less about wine.

All credit for food and wine knowledge is owed to DarkmoonSigle who was a doll during the entire writing process and patient with me as I mistook Port for wine and tried to cook a $400 bottle of something into a sauce that would have made Hannibal cry.

We hope you all enjoy the first course.

We do not own Hannibal, though we wouldn't mind bringing him home~3

Beta read by: DarkmoonSigel

01: First Course

It was the way that light hit Will's skin; that was how it was brought to Hannibal's attention. The pallor of it wan, the color spread out far too thin. It made Will look as though he were fading.

"Have you been eating, Will?" Hannibal asked from his seat across from the empath.

The question caught Will's attention as strange, not that talk of food while in Hannibal's company was as oddity so much as the direct question regard Will's consumption of it. "Uh, yeah," The answer came broken, Will rubbing his face with tired hands. Hannibal watched his movements, sluggish at best as he squeezed the bridge of his nose and tried to blink away some of the lethargy still clinging to him; he was more distracted than usual and Hannibal had an inclination why. "That is," He began to correct, "when I remember. Jack's had me wrapped so tight around the Ripper I haven't been doing a whole lot of anything lately, eating included."

"You cannot think about the Chesapeake Ripper all the time Will," The empath shielded his declining health with the layers of flannel and cheap cotton like the armour of armour of a knight, keeping the signs of malnourishment that Hannibal knew forced his ribs to show more then what was desirable hidden away; but he couldn't hide the sickness crawling beneath his skin. "Your body and mind need to rest; good food and sleep are the only remedies for that."

Tired but restless he dragged himself from his seat, wondering to the bookshelves of the bottom level to scan texts ranging from physical and mental health to the great works of Leonardo Da Vinci. "We both know how well I sleep Hannibal." He lectured some of the older spines staring back at him. "Even when I sleep I'm not 'resting', my body takes me out for walks and my mind wakes me up screaming." He spat with betrayal.

"You would sleep much better if you found a way to relax after work and kept a regular feeding schedule," taking advantage of the opportunity presented to him Hannibal openly examined Will's back, the way his loos shirts pooled before tucking into his pants and the small gather of fabric at the back of his cargo pants that demonstrated exactly how much weight he had unintentionally lost. There was a beautiful figure hidden beneath those layers, one of sharp contours and lithe limbs.

"You say that, but try to get Jack to realize it. I don't think I've slept more than eight hours all week." Because whether it was the ripper or the latest psychopath to darken the bureau's doorway, Jack wouldn't let Will rest.

"Will if you do not begin taking care of yourself your health will begin diminishing and then what use will you be to Jack?" _Or me_ he thought in silent addition.

Watching as Will tried to create some amount of space between them he followed behind, coming up with quite though audible footsteps so not to startle the skittish man. "Tell me how often you remember to eat."

Keeping his back to the doctor he questioned the books, "recently?"

Hannibal could already see where this was going, "In the past three days, you have slept for eight hours and what have you eaten?"

Silence filled the gap between them telling Hannibal more about his patient's food consumption then words alone, guilt always spoke loudest with Will. He was only eating when he remembered and he was a walking ball of anxiety, fear and stress, it did not leave much room for a blossoming appetite. "Allow me to ask another question, have you eaten today?"

More silence filled the gap between them as he fingered a book from the shelf, opening the heavy medical text to a page depicting the _Wound Man _"I haven't been hungry." Will tried to cover, focusing on the incisions covering the man depicted instead of the words of the one behind him.

Taking the heavy tomb from his patient and sliding it back in proper file with the rest Hannibal turned Will toward his desk with the gentle guidance of a hand on his lower back. "I'm afraid that will not do Will, you suffer a great deal of stress which will in turn affect your appetite, you must force yourself to eat, especially if you are not sleeping well." Giving a gentle but demanding push he sat the empath at his desk, making the man shift with discomfort at the new seating arrangement.

Leaving him for a moment Hannibal opened a small fridge in the back of his office usually reserved for wine and returned with a number of small containers to be arranged on the desk in front of Will. "Hannibal, you don't have to feed me." He protested, watching as the lids of tupperware more expensive the half his dishes popped to produce an assortment of dried fruit, cheese, a paste he could only assume to be pate with slices of bread.

A hand on his shoulder stopped Will from rising to return the seat and lunch to his therapist. "You are my patient, I am your doctor; you are malnourished and I have brought extra." Hannibal's familiar accented voice came by his ear, smooth and soothing him to remain seated.

"People don't pack extra for lunch Hannibal," he tried to challenge but the psychiatrist was already spreading a thin layer of seasoned ground meat across bread and lifting it to his lips, dismissing the comment entirely.

"For lunch we are having foie gras on French bread accompanied by rosemary infused goat cheese and dried cherries and figs that have been roasted with a dash of balsamic." He explained to the empath, letting the crust touch chapped lips. Though he knew Will was capable of eating almost anything thanks to his poor upbringing, he understood that it was that same upbringing that would leave the man close minded about new foods. "Fatty goose liver," Hannibal clarified, noting the look that lingered on the spread as he tentatively opened his mouth to accept a taste of the offering.

"It's good," Will admitting with a note of surprise, taking the chewy bread for himself to have another bite, pleased to have his fragile patient eating Hannibal disappeared again to return with two glasses and a bottle of port he had uncorked to breath sometime before.

Leaning against his desk he watched as his patient consume his lunch, sipping his glass of tangy red and savoring the sweetness as it ran over his tongue. "Will, I must confess that I am finding myself fearing for your mental and physical stability at this time. Jack has been pushing you too hard these past few weeks and it is beginning to show. I need you to find a hobby you can lose yourself to in the evenings, something that will help you unwind and step away from the Ripper." Because he knew asking Will to take some time off on stress leave would only have Crawford coming to the empath's house requesting his assistance off the charts.

Will laughed, humorless and dry; dropping the food with a sudden loss of appetite he ignored the lunch to turn his attention to the unsavory conversation at hand, "you don't think I've tried?" he grinned but it faux, sitting on as his face as empty as the laugh, "I've worked on my lures, boat motors, played with my dogs," he counted off fingers, "the only thing I can't do is go fishing, I need a weekend to do that." He shrugged, accepting a glass of red when offered and taking a swallow that made Hannibal grimace and silently promise to one day teach the back water Louisiana man what wine etiquette was; which gave him an idea.

"Then perhaps what you need is something new." He smiled, satisfied with his blossoming plan as he coaxed a fig and cheese between still reluctant lips. Though adverse at first Will seemed to open up to the new foods once they'd touched his pallet.

"Like what?" Will lifted his wine glass taking another unappreciative swallow to chase down the fig, "If you're going to tell me to take up drinking I'm already ahead of you." He lifted the glass for emphasis though Hannibal knew it wasn't wine he was storing in his cupboards. He'd seen his fridge before.

Thought pleased to have the man walking into his questioning he would have to address his alcoholism another time, "I was thinking you could cook with me." He stool a fig for himself, deciding that if he wished to taste any it would be now or never since the empath had deemed he liked the pairing of cheese and fruit and would be devouring it all.

The notion made him crease his brow, giving the dehydrated fruit a scrutinizing look. "Cooking lessons? Is this your way of keeping an eye on me Dr. Lecter?"

He smiled, topping off both their glasses "Perhaps it is my way of making sure that you are both relaxed as well as feed in the evenings." He conceded. "You will find that you will sleep much better on a full stomach and with far less nightmares when your mind is put to rest while at ease."

"I am not a skilled cook Hannibal; if you let me in your kitchen you're going to be left very disappointed." He laughed, bringing the new drink to lips.

A hand touched the step of Will's glass, a silent instruction to lower the crystal after a sip instead of a swallow. "I think you will find a few intimate sessions in my kitchen will remedy that nicely." He was pleased to watch his light handed training already taking root as Will lifted his wine glass again and sipped.

End Notes: Thank you all for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed the story and let us know what you think of Will and Hannibal's cooking lessons, we love to hear from you~3

Also, please check out DarkmoonSigel at u/2691499/DarkmoonSigel


	2. 02: Second Course

Written by: DarkmoonSigel and SKU-7314977

Authors Notes: Welcome back, please take a seat, sip some wine and enjoy the second course.

We do not own Hannibal

Beta read by: DarkmoonSigel

02: Second Course

"My name is Will Graham; I am on Hannibal's doorstep in Baltimore, Maryland. It is 8:37pm, I am about to have a cooking lesson." Will swallowed, feeling his throat click as he stared at the front door. He'd visited Hannibal at his home a number of times in the past, though never for a therapy session, it left him feeling nervous, like two friends meeting up for a first date, the label on the bottle of wine he had thought to bring was not helping him in that matter, only helping the nest of butterflies in his chest flutter with new zeal.

Reprimanding himself for his foolishness Will took the heavy knocker in hand and tapped it twice; waiting no more than a minute before a pleased looking Hannibal dressed in an apron opened the door. "Will, please come in."

"I know I'm a few minutes late," he handed the doctor a brown paper, shrugging off his coat to be hung as Hannibal examined his gift. "I wasn't sure what the right social procedure was for something like this."

Leading the uneasy profiler through to his kitchen Hannibal pulled a bottle of red from the drab paper bag, a sipping Zinfandel with a rather flirtations label on the bottle, _Lust_. "There is no customary etiquette for you to follow when a friend is helping another friend relax with a private invitation to dinner; though I do appreciate the gift, thank you."

Popping the bottle with one of his many corkers Hannibal poured two glasses of the mellow wine while Will wondered his kitchen with nervous energy, examining the cooking supplies that had been arranged for that evening's lesson.

"Yeah, I dropped by an enoteca not too far from your home, figured you'd be a regular there," and he'd been right "when I told the sommelier what I was looking for and for whom they had a couple suggestions." Really the girl called over about half the staff in her excitement at the prospect of Hannibal having a potential boyfriend and drilled Will on his 'cooking date' while showing him exactly what Baltimore most eligible bachelor preferred; running him over with five different bottle before the sea of fans was parted by one sommelier carrying a bottle of Zinfandel Lust. The golden label featuring a couple in romance paired with the fine curled red letters of _Lust_ that had Will second guessing his choice in shop, but they all seemed to agree that he was leaving with that bottle and wouldn't take no for an answer. Will didn't have much choice after that and if it was what Lecter would like, who was he to argue? The unexpected social interaction with Hannibal's fan club had left him mentally exhausted and more nervous then before.

Hannibal noted that his usual girls had helped Will pick out something that would be flirtatious, but not too bold for his inexperienced pallet. He would have to make time to thank them for their assistance.

"Mm," he hummed, coming up behind the nervous empath to capture him around the waist and wrap him in an apron of his own. "They know me well." Next taking each of his wrists his popped the button of his shirt cuffs and rolled the cheap cotton sleeves until they matched his own, he appreciated that Will had changed into his 'good clothes' for the occasion but there was no need to ruin them; not unless it would allow him to buy Will something better.

With that thought there was a growing possibility of Hannibal spilling something dark and red on the empath before the end of the night. He would have to make sure whatever it was had a strong base, he'd hate for Will to save it.

"You have brought a lovely sipping wine for us to enjoy while we cook." Hannibal explained, guiding Will to the prepared cooking station, the ingredients for the night's dinner arranged in what Will knew would be a practical order, even if he was unsure what that might be. "It is a sweet wine for Zinfandel, mellow in flavor, excellent for your developing pallet." Because there would be more and he would learn to appreciate it.

Swallowing back some of his nervousness Will reached for his glass, once again experiencing the light tap of a finger on the tail of his drink to lower it before he abused the liquor with a whisky swallow. Letting Lecter place the glass to one side and slide a large wooden cooking board and knife in front of him Will tried to settle the raging butterflies within without the help of something sixteen point nine percent. "Alright, why don't you tell me what we're making?"

Guiding Will's hands to pick up a chopping knife, arranging his fingers to settle along the blades spine while firmly gripping the handle Hannibal wrapped his other hand around a steamed and peeled tomato, arranging his hands and the fruit to begin dicing the piece in quick smooth motions. "Tonight we will be dinning on penne all'arrabbiata; a simple dish of pasta and sauce accompanied by an equally simple salad."

"Nothing is simple when it comes to you and cooking." Will challenged, following the skilled hands that directed his chopping until nothing was left of the tomato and its remains were poured into a bowl sitting just to his right.

He felt the light laugh that rumbled through Hannibal, the man still wrapped around him as he brought another partly prepared tomato to their cutting board. "I beg to differ," the heavy accent caught in the shell of his ear, making Will shiver as he strong hands left him to see to a number of pots on the stove. "The sauce is made from a blend of fresh tomatoes, garlic cloves, red pepper flakes and olive oil. Salt, pepper, lemon juice, basil and sugar can all be added to taste or not at all; red wine is optional." He retorted, setting a wide shallow pot on medium heat and filling another with water to boil. "The dish is as simple as you want it to be. Tonight we are making it simple. Onion, garlic, tomato, red pepper flakes and olive oil.

"That doesn't sound so simple." Will scoffed, finishing the last of the tomatos and grabbing an onion. "How do you know what wine to use?"

"Chopped please, not minced." Hannibal instructed, taking a sip of his gift as he observed the agent working with knives and boards that had served up a teacher last week. "Whatever wine you are willing to cook with you should be willing to drink, it should always please the pallet. I sometimes like to use the same wine for my table in my cooking."

"Jesus!" Will cursed, dropping the knife to grip his finger. Looking up from his wine with calm causality Hannibal glanced to the slight pink of the onions on his board and the blade that had been abandoned to clatter against his counter.

Will silently cursed himself for the carless slice, feeling the pulse of his finger and the sting of onion juice in the cut. "Sorry," he apologised, stepping back from the counter and toward the sink. "maybe I should go." He paused when strong fingers caught his wrist, pulling the bleeding finger free to examine it. A rivet of blood slid down his finger, gliding along the creases of his palm to the wrist being held. A broad tongue, warm and moist against his flesh caught the drops before they touched the hand that held him, cleaning his hand of the sweet crimson and taking the split digit between thin lips. "H-Hannibal?" He asked, words catching in his throat as warmth flooded his lower belly, feeling the doctors tongue slid along the wound caught between his lips before releasing it to examine the cut.

"It is shallow, a bandage will suffice." Grabbing a piece of paper towel to catch the gathering blood he led him to another corner of his kitchen where he produced a medical kit more fit for home surgery then general first aid.

Will wasn't sure if he wanted to breach the subject of Hannibal licking a run of blood from his skin or pretend it was an old Lithuanian custom he wasn't familiar with. Then again, he could have been drinking before Will arrived. He decided to skip that awkward conversation all together, watching Hannibal expertly clean and bandage his finger before sliding a bright blue finger condom over the bit of sticky gauze. "You still want me to cook?" He realized, flexing the digit to feel the bit of skin pop open and closed.

"Of course, but perhaps I will finish the sauce today. Would you please tare and rinse the spring greens while I finish up?" he indicated a head a vibrant green vegetation, washing up before taking over Will's cooking station.

Shredding the greens into pieces a little smaller then Hannibal would have preferred he watched as the master made quick work of their remaining ingredients, sautéing the fresh onion and minced garlic golden before throwing in the abundance of tomato's diced into uneven portions. He moved masterfully, each flick of the knife and twist of a spoon made with practiced ease. Will found it oddly erotic to watch, "Will, we would like to eat some of the greens," Hannibal directed, a flick of maroon warning Will to watch what he was doing.

Sure enough he'd managed to mangle a leaf, destroying the bit of food into rolled balls of green. "Sorry," he ducked his head, returning to his task at hand with focus.

"I think perhaps you have enjoyed more wine then food today." Hannibal offered in excuse for Will, a pull of smile edging his lips. "I think you'll find yourself doing much better tomorrow, less jitters and more food."

"We're doing this again tomorrow?" Will frowned, watching his therapist lift a pot of heavy water as though it weighed nothing at all. "How many lessons am I getting?" He took Hannibal's place at the sink, rinsing his accomplished task of salad shredding with far less blood then the onion.

He nodded, quickly platting two dishes with pasta, sauce and a spring of something Will didn't recognize but knew he would be learning. "I think this is something we should continue until you have settle into better eating habits. Don't you?"

"I don't want to inconvenient you," Will tried, once again finding himself under the doctors touch, Hannibal coming up behind him to poor a generous amount of balsamic vinaigrette over the greens.

"The only inconvenience would be your absence." He felt the ghost of lips against his ear, soft as silk, and rushing an unfamiliar heat to his loins. "Toss the salad, I'll get the chianti, and then we eat."

Tossing the bowl of spring greens and dressing as Hannibal finished setting the dining room with dishes of pasta and glasses of wine Will wondered what would be the most practical way to hide his showing arousal.

End Note: Hello again readers, we hope you've been enjoying Will's growing sexual frustration as much as we have. There's a lot more to come and a healthy dollop of porn waiting for you in the next chapters if you're patient enough to sit a little longer at Hannibal's table.

Let us know what you think in the comments, we always love to hear from our readers~3

Make sure you check out DarkmoonSigel's page too, u/2691499/DarkmoonSigel


	3. 03: Third Course

Written by: DarkmoonSigel and SKU-7314977

Authors Notes: Welcome back readers, we hope you're all looking forward to cooking lessons with Hannibal Lecter.

We do not own Hannibal

Beta read by: DarkmoonSigel

03: Third Course

Despite the previous night's endeavor not going quite as expected, Hannibal did not consider it a failure. He had not intended on seducing the skilled profiler, but the noticeable flush of Will's skin and quickened heartbeat he'd felt when pressed up against the skittish man's back indicated that he had done just that. The noticeable bulge in Will's trousers also dismissed any doubts Hannibal may have had on the matter, though Will had done his best to hide it.

To give credit where credit where due, Will had tried to conceal his embarrassment and his very impressive shame with the salad bowl, as futile an attempt as it had been in the end. Hannibal had politely refrained from staring or commenting about it, preferring to watch Will implode instead.

As much as he'd enjoyed their tension filled evening, Hannibal needed an approach that would take some of the nervous edge off of the empath, which was why he was planning on for tonight's menu to feature a whole snapper. Having fish as a meal held significance. The only leisurely activity Will had ever mentioned in and out of therapy was fly fishing, the outdoor pursuit his method of coping with loneliness by disguising it as needed solitude.

That being said, Hannibal wasn't about to trudge out into the rivers of Wolf Trap, or anywhere else for that matter, to catch something local. Not when he could create an illusion of the favored pastime for his empath by having the pair prepare a whole fish bought from a trusted fishmonger. It was something Will would find familiar, and perhaps even calming, perfect for relieving some of his social anxiety until he lost himself in their cooking lesson.

Or in Hannibal's bed.

The thought of having Will adrift in lust and wanting beneath him was appealing, more so now that there were signs of Will's own interest in that particular venture, certain interesting aspects coming to light. With the newfound evidence of mutual want, Hannibal found his mind wondering about the possibility of lithe limbs wrapped around his neck, gasping lips pressed into his shoulder, and rough heels digging into his lower back. All while he forced himself into Will's tight heat, taking the man over and over again upon the jewel toned silk sheets of his bed...

…But those were not thoughts meant for the office lest he wished to entice Franklyn who was currently giving him a very obvious once over. With a swell of disgust replacing the growing lust, Hannibal directed his attention back to the dinner he'd been planning as he pretended to listen to his obsessive patient's prattle on about his neuroses. It was almost a relief to shoo Franklin out of his office, Hannibal positive that he would see Franklin wearing a perverted take on his suit next week.

Gathering up a pen and paper in hand as he took a seat behind his desk, Hannibal listed the necessary fresh ingredients he would need to obtain for that night, his elegant cursive inking reminders marking fine lined paper in regards to fish, mushrooms, and wine. The sound of the phone ringing made Hannibal check his watch, tearing his attention away from his list, and back into the reality of patients and appointments. Finding he had time, Hannibal discovered motivation as well upon seeing that his caller was Will.

"Good afternoon, Will." Hannibal found himself purring into the phone, the flicker of a smile pulling at the corners of his bowed mouth as he debated the finer points of mushrooms.

"Hey…" Came the worn voice of his favorite unofficial patient. From the tone alone, Hannibal could easily imagine the man rubbing the scruff of his jaw as he tried to organize his stray thoughts. "I'll have to take a rain check on dinner."

The sound of apology laced each word with mild grief. It was not sound unfamiliar to the doctor, having heard Will's voice take on such a tone before, usually in regard to the few therapy sessions he'd been forced to re-schedule. All thanks for the cancellations were due to Jack and his cases.

Speaking of cases and killers, Hannibal briefly wondered if Will would ever notice the slight pattern in his own displayed killings. It was a subtle and he killed infrequently enough, but there was one there if Will were to ever look hard enough for it. The profiler just might notice that the Chesapeake Ripper never slaughtered a pig the day before one of Will's appointments, and now his cooking lessons.

With his version of art far enough apart not to attract any attention as to their day of the week and Will's ever changing appointment times, Hannibal doubted anyone would inadvertently stumble across his small pattern. It would be another one of his little secrets, even if the FBI did ever manage to catch on to him. With Jack leading the hunt, that day of revelation was a long way off, considering the agent couldn't seem to find his own ass with both hands without Will guiding him to it. As it was, the arrangement existed purely out of his own selfish desires and personal enjoyment of seeing Will. He simply didn't want his most interesting patient to miss an appointment on account of his own creativity.

"I take it Agent Crawford has a new case for you to look at for him?" Hannibal asked, already knowing the answer as he decided upon cremini mushrooms over shitake. More similar to the white button mushrooms Americans tended to eat in excess, he doubted Will would be too dubious of the little fungi's presence in the dish.

"Yeah." Will sighed. It was the sound of defeat, as though he was finally accepting his sacrifice in a losing battle. Hannibal wondered if that loss of figurative life was in regard to the ongoing abuse Will received from Jack, or a final acceptance toward his diminishing mental health. "Look, it's gonna be a late one, and I don't expect you to sit up waiting for me. We'll just have to do this another time."

"Nonsense." Hannibal dismissed the profiler's excuse to all but hear the hallmarks of surprise over the phone he knew Will was wearing on his face, and was marked in his stilted breathing. Hannibal easily envisioned the draw of the profiler's tired brow, the heavy stoop of his shoulders, and the nervous shuffling of his feet.

"If you are taking on another case, then it is all the more important we follow through with our lesson. I will help you unwind yourself from this killer with good company, food, and drink. You will sleep all the better for it." Hannibal promised, leaving no room for argument or escape for Will.

"I will not see my friend deteriorate because Jack finds himself blind while tracking down America's most wanted." was added with a note of kindness, the tone of it softening the edge of his voice and accent.

"I really don't want to put you out." Will continued to resist, sounding tired, strained, and divided. It would not take much to break the last of his resolve and be malleable as clay in Hannibal's capable hands. It was a medium he hoped to one day to sculpt Will into something better fitting of the man's talents than as Jack's blood hound. Something with sharp edges and a defining hunger of its own.

"I might not get to your place until midnight, and you have other patients you need to be up for in the morning." Will tried his damnedest to dissuade, attempting to appeal to Hannibal's sense of professionalism.

"The only patient I am feeling concerned about right now is you. I will not press you any further on the matter if you do not wish to keep company with me this evening, but I sincerely feel that it is in your best interest to join me tonight for dinner." Hannibal told him, not in the voice of a doctor to his patient, but as a concerned friend. He knew Will would be able to pick up on it, being one of the few people who could. Hannibal was not above using Will's own empathy against him, especially if it got him something he wanted. "I will be up should you change your mind."

Hannibal could practically hear the walls of Will's resolve breaking, his bone forts shattering in on themselves. The man would not allow Hannibal to waste his evening waiting for naught. Whether he admitted it to himself now or later, the empath would be joining him for dinner.

"Knowing that you will be running late, I will drop by your home and let out your pack, regardless of your choice ." Hannibal said, more informing Will than offering. It effectively destroyed the profiler's last excuse for escape.

"I can't ask you to do that. It's too far out of the way-" Will started to say to break off suddenly, the sound of another voice muffled through the receiver as fabric brushed against the phone. Whatever had been said, Hannibal heard Will sigh in surrender at it. "I'm coming."

Will had moved his phone, Hannibal noted, so as to not shout in his ear while addressing who he assumed to be Jack. He was always one to appreciate politeness and even more so, thoughtfulness. That fact that Will applied both here made his heart grow warm.

"I'm sorry. I've have to go. Jack needs me." Will sighed, anxiety creeping back into his voice. "I'll call you later about dinner."

The last thing he heard before Will got off the phone was another shout from Jack ordering Will to 'hang up already and get his ass back to the crime scene'. It made Hannibal momentarily debate if the FBI agent would be better served as a filet mignon or Beef Wellington before returning to his list.

"One day, you will lose your entertainment value, Jack." Hannibal said in warning to the ensuing silence. "And on that day, Will shall enjoy a very flavorful dinner."

The drive out to Wolf Trap proved to be long yet fruitful. After seeing to the pack's bathroom needs, and refreshing their food and water dishes, Hannibal took the liberty of going through the profiler's closets and drawers. It was nothing the doctor hadn't seen before, the usual cheap cottons and polyesters staring back at him from Will's drawers, and his sub par products from the shelves.

Hannibal was tempted to throw out that damn cologne Will insisted on wearing, the bottle with the ship upon its face mocking him with its continued existence. The only thing that really stayed Hannibal's hand in the matter was that Will had taken to not wearing it around him at their appointments and such. Perhaps the profiler could be nudged in the direction of something more appropriate, or flat out guilt tripped into wearing whatever Hannibal decided to buy for him.

Looking through Will's small selection of clothing, Hannibal sorted out what he felt to be the more flattering pieces from the man's wardrobe. Ignoring all the flannel and jeans, Hannibal professionally eyed his selection, bringing the baggy articles down several sizes so that they perfectly fit the model of Will in his mind. Satisfied, Hannibal glanced at the tags with a slight curl in his lips before folding each piece carefully, tucking his prizes away into a leather messenger bag he normally reserved for documents.

Satisfied with his venture and adding 'thief' to his already extensive resume, Hannibal left with his stolen goods and began the long drive back to Baltimore, making detours along the way for a series of errands. Hannibal visited his fishmonger first, an upscale grocery that only provided freshest organic product next, and the enoteca Will had visited the day before last. In the midst of all that, Hannibal found he still had time to pop in on one of his preferred tailor, the other being in Italy.

Ever a patient man, Hannibal still found that the longest portion of his evening was the one dedicated to waiting for Will. He noticed that he was looking forward to the empath's arrival, feeling a small thrill of excitement trickle through him at the thought of continuing his lessons with Will.

Sitting in his favored chair and reading the latest article on , Hannibal sipped a glass of Nero D'avola as he awaited notice from his absent company. He tried to ignore how eager he felt about hearing from Will in regards to their dinner and the case's end. As expected, Hannibal received a text late that evening, the clock reading off a quarter to eleven when the little message came through.

_I'm just leaving the scene now. It'll be another thirty minutes or so before I get to your place. Are you sure you still want me to come?_

Hannibal knew that Will suspected he might be asleep. It was why he hadn't called, choosing to text so as not to wake him. A quiet beep from an incoming text was far quieter than the repetitive ring of a phone. Hannibal wasn't about to let Will off the hook though, not when he had them so securely in him. Immediately, Hannibal texted back, rising from his chair to begin preparations for the late lesson.

_Wonderful. That will give me plenty of time to set up for diner._

End Note: Hello readers and thanks for reading! Good news for anyone heading into the fourth course, there's some naked dessert waiting for you at the end. ;D

Please leave a comment if you've been enjoying the story so far and let us know what you think. We love to hear from you all.

Also, make sure you check out DarkmoonSigel at u/2691499/DarkmoonSigel


	4. 04: Fourth Chapter

Written by: DarkmoonSigel and SKU-7314977

Authors Notes: Porn my friends, there is porn in this chapter. Enjoy dinning on smut. ;D

We do not own Hannibal

Beta read by: DarkmoonSigel

04: Fourth Course

Once again Will found himself standing on his doctor's doorstop, but this time, the nervous butterflies of anxiety didn't flutter up against his belly as he stared at the door's heavy brass knocker. He was too tired for the little bugs to even take flight. Instead of being filled to the brim with nervous life, Will simply felt drained. The claws of his old friend fear still dug deep within the shadows of his mind, thoughts of blood and flesh and death seeping in from the wounds it made there. He was tired and anxious and all he wanted to do was cuddle up with his pack before crawling into a bottle of whisky.

Much to Will's own personal dismay, Hannibal had been right in his assessment though. Though Will had only slept a few hours the night before, the time spent in slumber had been undisturbed by sleepwalking or night terrors. It had only been one night, but for a time, his mind had been untangled from the Ripper and all the other cases that usually crowded in on him. He had ended up feeling more rested after those few hours of undisturbed sleep than he had all week from waking dreams.

Taking the heavy knocker in hand much as he had the night before, Will hit it twice against the brass base. Soon enough, the door swung open to reveal a very pleased looking Hannibal.

"Come in, I was just laying out the ingredients for tonight's diner. I didn't expect you so soon." Hannibal told him in way of greeting, his smile slight but very much there. Its presence and his notice of it warmed Will from the inside far more than it should have.

"Traffic was light," Will offered in answer, hanging his coat to follow the chef into his sanctuary. After the mishap from the night before still weighing heavily on his mind, Will found he didn't trust himself. "So what are we making tonight? Nothing complicated I hope."

"Nothing complicated." Hannibal reassured, once again taking it upon himself to wrap Will in an apron and fold back his sleeves for him. The attention and skin on skin contact made the wary profiler flush rather enticingly in Hannibal's opinion.

In attempt to keep calm and not embarrass himself further, Will turned his attention to an assortment of herbs nearby, their pots cleverly built right into the wall. If Will had to guess, he would say that Hannibal had a hand in building the house, at least some aspects of it. His design was in everything around them, practically in the very air itself.

Noting the curious look in his eyes, Hannibal followed Will's gaze to the little pots, "That is my herb garden. I use a blend of fresh and dried. Some of the finer spices, like saffron, simply can not be grown in one's kitchen in the quantity needed." he said.

Plucking a few leaves from off of the various plants, Hannibal presented the herbs to Will in demonstration of their virtues. Laying them across the counter for Will to better examine, Hannibal placed a name to each as he went down the vibrant line of green.

"Rosemary, Italian parsley, oregano, mint, and common basil." Hannibal explained, touching each leaf in turn. Will examined the herbs carefully, as if he was going to be tested about the information at a later date. He scrutinized the fragrant evergreen spines of the rosemary in comparison to the fluffy bush of Italian parsley in such a manner it reminded Hannibal of how the profiler acted at a crime scene.

On his part, Will found himself wondering briefly what had possessed anyone in times long past to pick a bit of the fragrant grass and rub it all over their food, thinking that was a good idea. His thoughts on the matter short circuited themselves when Hannibal cupped the side of his face in a casual manner that felt far more intimate than it should.

"Each herb has its own distinct flavor and fragrance." Hannibal explained, selecting a leaf of mint to press it to chapped lips. Stunned into compliance by a skin hunger Will usually could ignore, the velvety green felt soft yet tingly against Will's mouth, the profiler parting his lips to accept the bit of offered vegetation. More surprise on his part rather than practicing any form of seduction caused Will's tongue to taste Hannibal's fingertips. Will found himself sampling both the cool burn of the plant and the salt of Hannibal's touch, the combination contrasting in flavor, just as much as the rosemary and parsley had in appearance.

"Some you may be more familiar with than others." Hannibal continued, seemingly unperturbed by the fact Will had just licked his fingers. He followed up the mint with a piece of basil, pressing the smooth flat leaf to lips that once again parted to accept the offering from fingers that lingered just a second too long to be considered coincidence. It was enough to make Will look straight on at his host.

Brewing ocean storm met blood stained brown. Within him, Will felt a great number of the fluttering bugs reviving in full force to tickle his ribcage, enough so to steal his breathe away. The moment was fleeting, Hannibal letting go of Will's face in a manner that said ordinary interaction. Will couldn't say, not being well versed enough in relationships of any sort to gauge what was commonplace and what was privately suggestive. It made the empath wonder if he was reading too much into everything, seeing hints and suggestions where there were none.

"Are you trying to tell me that I should pick up a book on herbs?" Will asked, chewing thoughtfully at the bit of leaf as he tried to sort out what had just happened between them. He decided to keep to the safer topics of cooking, not wishing to repeat the mistakes he had made with Alana.

"I believe it would be to your benefit," Hannibal said, busying himself with the disposal of the remaining herbs and wiping down his counters. Having laid some groundwork, he could afford to give Will some space for now to come to his own conclusions. With any luck, by the time Will became fully aware of Hannibal's more amorous intentions, the profiler would already be trapped in the cage Hannibal had built around him.

Taking out a parchment wrapped means to his ends from the fridge, Hannibal removed the covering to lay a whole snapper on the counter in front of Will. "You will find yourself seeking out certain flavors as you develop your skill in the culinary arts and train up your palette. A working knowledge of what those flavors are, and how they work with one another will only serve to assist you." He said, finding himself closely watching the man's reaction to the selection for meal's main dish.

"This is a lovely fish." Will breathed out the compliment in appreciation, examining the snapper's bright red and pink colorations that stood out in contrast to the white and silver scales of its underbelly. The lack of odor and bright, clear eyes confirmed the fish's freshness. Something was amiss though.

"Aren't these generally sold gutted?" Will asked the fish instead of Hannibal, his eyes still examining their tasty diner. With quiet interest, Hannibal watched as Will picked up the fish by its gills to examine it front and back, sliding his fingers along its length and fins. As he did so, the normally seen tension in his shoulders visibly shifting into something closer to confidence as he lost himself in examining the virtues of the meat.

"I placed a special request with my fish monger this morning. I thought you might enjoy preparing the fish." Hannibal offered as he slipped a knife into Will's free hand, working to keep a smile of delight off of his face as he did so. Unlike the previous evening, Will didn't hesitate in taking the steel, his fingers wrapping around its handle with little thought as he brought the fish over the sink and began de-scaling it without any further instruction.

It was beautiful to watch, such assured grace and confidence radiating from Will as he fell into muscle memory, adjusting the skill he usually saved for the bass he caught while fly fishing for the different fins and scaling of the snapper.

"You may be a little unfamiliar with this blade…" Hannibal started to inform, feeling like he had to say something as he came up alongside the profiler to better view his ability as he worked.

"It is a Deba, a Japanese fish knife made of hardened steel used for gutting, filleting and de-scaling." Will interrupted with an appreciative hum for the blade. He had always wanted one, but never seemed to remember to take the time to purchase it.

The confirmation that Will was listening as he worked was enough for Hannibal to make exception to the slight breach in etiquette. Will seemed to be completely enraptured by what he was doing, expertly using the blade he had never seen or used before to complete his task. The masterful movements of a keen blade parting fresh meat made Hannibal feel strange with an anticipation that usually only came with the creation of his own art.

Satisfied with the snapper's cleaning, Will walked it back to the cutting board on the counter, letting maroon eyes drink in his every movement. Will could feel that intense gaze he dared not meet for long rake over him as he laid the snapper across the counter, laying one hand atop to hold it flat as he slipped the blade's tip into its gullet and sliced it down the belly.

It was an image Hannibal was not soon to forget, such certainty in the usually skittish profiler as he opened up his body of work. He couldn't help but wonder, couldn't resist the temptation of imagining just what Will would look like doing the exact same thing to the slender diaphragm of a red headed woman.

Pale creamy skin that would contrast to Will's own as he held her in place, one strong hand keeping his chosen prize still as he gently hushed her in soothing tones, sweet yet false in their promises. All the while letting cool steel tuck into her sternum, Will expertly dragging a polished blade downward to open up her belly and make it vibrantly blossom with violent offerings of pain. From that point on, Will's hands would be painted wet with crimson that gushed and flowed freely from her as he pulled lengths of offal from a living dead girl.

In response to the fantasy flooding him with excitement, Hannibal could feel his cock twitch, his sex beginning to swell even as the thoughts faded from his mind. He couldn't risk scaring off Will, or hinting too early to his truer nature.

"I think we should keep this one whole." Hannibal heard Will say to him, the doctor more involved with his other senses to focus properly. His vision was currently filled with an echo of his desire. Will's hands were covered in crimson as he reached inside the throat of the fish, gripped at its innards to pull them free with a single practiced movement. As he did this, Will nicked the bits of sinew that tried to keep the offal inside, tearing the last of it away with practiced ease. Adjusting himself while Will's attentions were still elsewhere, Hannibal drank in the sight of it.

Pleased with the finished product of his gutting, Will glanced over at Hannibal at last, noticing for the first time the fascination Hannibal held in regard to him handling of their food. His friend seeming utterly enthralled with his skilled knife work. It took a moment, but Will soon realized he had managed to impress the good doctor. Will knew that such a thing was no easy feat. In a way, he felt honored that he obtained it for himself where he was sure so many others had failed.

It was a very rare thing for him to do so, given few chances for it in his life, but Will could himself beginning to preen. The unfamiliar sensation of peacocking stayed with him as Will walked the snapper back to the sink. He carefully rinsed out the rest of the blood from their dinner.

As he meticulously cleaned the fins and gills that had been left on for decoration, Will could feel sanguine eyes following the movements of his hands. There was an odd sensation of admiration coming from the gaze, but not that kind that made Will's skin prickle in alarm. For once, he wasn't being stripped down mentally for a paper, or psychoanalyzed for his unique thought patterns. He was simply being admired. Of all people, Hannibal Lecter was admiring him.

Needing some mental breathing room to deal with this revelation, Will took a moment to clean their work station before resuming as Will returned the fish to the counter. He found much to his surprise that he could deal with that, that Hannibal's appreciation was something he wanted in his life.

"So, what are we doing with it?" Will asked, with a calm unfamiliar to his being as he visibly relaxed. He turned to face Hannibal, even meeting his host's eye momentarily in fleeting glances.

"Tonight we will dine on meunière snapper with creamed spinach and a walnut rice pilaf. I have selected a Viognier to pair with it." Hannibal answered, hardly able to stop the slight pull of lips as Will reached for the bowl of milk on his own to place the snapper in its opaque depths. Will went too soon to the flour though, Hannibal's hand lightly catching his wrist.

"We need to season our flour first." Hannibal instructed, letting his fingers slide along soft flesh and curvature. He lingered over Will's pulse-point, taking the time to read it. The quickened pace tattled on Will, telling Hannibal all about the excitement that brewed under his skin.

Hannibal was beginning to understand just how starved Will was for human contact. It was a strange cruelty and yet necessary respite to impose solitude on a person with Will's unique abilities. Will could become overloaded if he felt too much, but lack of stimuli was just as detrimental causing the empath to react to even the simplest touches of casual exchange. There was a hunger there, lurking behind Will's eyes and in the curl of his fingers, one of extreme and uncharted need.

"Unlike the fresh herbs I was showing you before for this, we will want something dried." Hannibal said. His hand still upon the man's wrist, he brought Will with him as he opened a pantry door, revealing an assortment of sealed jars filled with dried and preserved herbaceous produce. Handing a few bottles over to Will, Hannibal finally let go of the profiler to retrieve a marble mortar and pestle as well before returning to the counter.

"They're more fragrant." Will noted aloud, finding the air suddenly overtaken as the lids were lifted off.

"Indeed. Drying brings out what the luster of life tends to hide." Hannibal said as he placed each selection of spice into a mortar before placed the pestle into Will's hand. Moving to stand comfortably behind Will, his own remained atop so that the profiler could feel the flex of his fingers as he pushed the rounded end of the pestle up against the concave sides of the mortar, crushing the assortment of herbs. It filled the air with an explosion of rich fragrance.

Like the night before, Will could feel each and every movement of Hannibal's muscles around him. The strong hands that lay overtop his own commanded in their movements while directing them fluidly to work in tandem together. The contractions of Hannibal's bicep against his arm were doing terrible things to Will's concentration. In the midst of all these sensations, Will realized that Hannibal was keeping him trapped between himself and the counter. Instead of feeling ensnared though, the surprisingly hard torso just behind him was like a wall Will could steady himself upon.

Despite his best intentions to stay neutral, Will found that the contact being shared between them felt almost sexual in nature, to have so much of the doctor pressed up against him. The feeling only intensified with the press of hips against his backside, and a thigh rubbing across the back of his leg as he shifted, following the movements being directed to him.

"I've noticed we're not drinking while we cook tonight." Will winced as his voice came out sounding high and tight. He was getting desperate for a distraction though. Anything to help stop his mind from dwelling upon the pressure of another body along his back, and scent of expensive cologne that tickled his nose more than the spices.

"Not this evening." Hannibal answered, intentionally pitching his voice low so that his accent came out huskier than usual. "I would like for us to taste this dish with a fresh palette…"

Leaving the pestle in the mortar, Hannibal lifted Will's hand up so that he could press his lips to the injured finger. "..,and without injury." He added. Stepping back, Hannibal released Will to give the man a moment to himself, his embarrassment brightly coloring his skin. Amused but hiding it, Hannibal saw to preparing the creamed spinach.

Flustered into silence, Will distracted himself by adding the ground herbs to the flour. It took it upon himself to go ahead and start seasoning the fish, evenly dusting the snapper with a coat of speckled white. He was careful to avoid the fins and head though so that they would keep their color during cooking. Refusing to take his eyes off of the fish, Will knew he was being watched by Hannibal, could feel the linger of eyes on his back.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you have made this before. Are you a fan of meunière?" Hannibal asked as he cooked down onions with bacon to become clear in color and mild in flavor before adding the spinach to it and lastly, a splash of cream.

"No." Will moved the fish to the side as he considered the oil filled pot and remaining ingredients. "I don't know exactly what meunière is, but I like fish battered and fried. It doesn't take a huge mental leap to figure out what meunière style entails when you've left all this out."

Satisfied with Will's answer, Hannibal directed his attention to a bowl of small white mushrooms. Will thought that they looked like buttons except for the brown of their caps. The mushrooms being an ingredient in Hannibal's kitchen, he also doubted that the man would ever use something as mundane as a white button mushrooms in anything. The fungi was accompanied by a shallow dish full of what looked like little hard peas. they could have been pebbles for all Will knew, given their dark color and dense looking nature.

"If you would, please slice the cremini for the meunière's sauce." Hannibal instructed. "Meunière…" he began to explain at last, supervising from his spot at the stove Will's progress and preparation of the snapper. "…is pan fried fish served in a brown butter mushroom and caper sauce."

Will turned his attention to the little pebbles that were actually food he had dismissed earlier, now curious about the little vegetation. "A caper?" he asked of the bud, picking one up out of the bowl, "I thought these were some kind of bean." He admitted his ignorance to some extent as he examining the dark green ball closer.

"They are a part of the capparaceae family, a relative of the legume." Hannibal informed him with ease, enjoying Will's growing curiosity of their art as he switched his attention to another pot. It was one Will hadn't noticed him attending to before, the profiler chiding himself for not paying attention.

The way the contents of the pot popped and boiled when Hannibal lifted the lid revealed it to be rice of some sort cooking away. Obviously satisfied with what he found there, Hannibal gave it a quick stir before replacing the lid. Removing the pot from the heat, he returned his attention to the spinach.

"I have confidence in your ability to fry up a fish. You may do so now. The sides are almost done." Hannibal informed him, forcing Will's attention back to the dinner at hand and away from the smooth movements of his therapist.

Waiting until the olive oil was properly heated, Will eased in the coated snapper, the flesh hissing and popping as the oil crisped the flour into a golden crust over the red flesh. Even with Hannibal giving him instructions from time to time, Will felt at ease in his cooking, losing himself in the preparation of the fish as he watched it fry up tender. It was something he knew how to do and do well. It was food he'd made for himself a thousand times before, from childhood to adulthood and on every weekend he could get himself to the river. It was something simple he could let himself escape into away from the nightmares of his mind and the real monsters of reality.

Letting the flesh grow 'fall off the bone' tender, Will flipped the fish so that it cooked evenly on both sides, the tips of fins getting crispy and the crust turning golden. Off to his side, Hannibal added this and that to his spinach mixture and walnut rice like some apothecary in a shop, creating potion and poisons. To Will's amazement, he found that they were working together in perfect unison on the meal, each keeping pace with the other in their respective tasks.

"Plate the fish when it is done, and move it to the side." came Will's next instruction. Finding the snapper done, Will followed his chef's orders in quick movements. "After draining some of the oil away, in the same pan I want you to stir in the butter I've measured out for you, and the mushrooms and capers. Once the butter begins to brown, you can pour it over our fish."

Taking the wooden spoon handed to him, Will tapered off his oil to add in the ingredients to his pan, watching the butter thicken naturally with the reduction of moisture while cooking the slivers of mushrooms and beads of capers as it heated.

"This is pretty simple," Will admitted out loud as he stirred the sauce. "And quick."

Even the sides Hannibal was currently dividing between their plate seemed easy enough to throw together, Will confident that he could recreate the spinach. He might have to read the back of a package for the rice, but he reasoned it should be a simple thing to figure out.

"Most cooking is." Hannibal said in encouragement, liking how confidence sounded in Will's voice. He took the plated fish in hand once Will finished pouring the sauce over it with a laymen's heavy touch, a splash of sauce dripping over the plate and onto his counter. Hannibal ignored it for now, not wanting to see Will deflate himself over something trivial.

"Cooking is only as complicated as you want it to be." Hannibal told him as he leaned into Will's personal space. In passing, he let his lips press up feather light against the scruff of Will's jaw before disappearing into the dining room, skillfully balancing the three plates of their dinner along his arms.

"He's flirting with me," Will realized at long last, his fingers reaching up to touch the skin that still tingled from where Hannibal's lips had made contact.

"People don't flirt with me…" Will argued pointedly with himself, letting his broken mind drift back to painful memories of rejection. People didn't want to be his friend because he was too strange to socialize with, and people certainly didn't want to date something that was broken. Alana was proof enough of that, and some days he was hardly treated as human by other people.

Except when he was with Hannibal who always treated him like a person. He seemed to accept him in his entirety without ever asking him to change or telling him that he was broken. The rational side of Will's mind reminded him that Hannibal was his therapist, for crying out loud and to get a grip. He knew Will was off balance, and yet…he had been making advances all night.

Hannibal was flirting with him, and Will didn't know how he should feel about that other than not make a fool of himself while eating.

Back in Wolf Trap and sitting alone on his bed, Will tried to imagine what it would be like if he decided to stay at Hannibal's, what might happen if he were bolder and more suave in nature. How it would feel to have Hannibal sitting behind him in bed with his body rested against the warm flesh of his doctor's. Of Hannibal's large, dexterous hand wrapped around his weeping member instead of his own right now. Will imagined Hannibal's skilled fingers playing up and down his sensitive skin, stirring up heat with every touch.

Taking a shaky breath, Will gave into temptation and closed his eyes, letting his golden pendulum swing. Instead of a murder, the considerable force that was his imagination created something new instead of reassembled a scene.

Once…twice…thrice.

"Will.." An accented voice sounded in his ear as the warmth of a tongue caught his earlobe before it was pulled it between warm lips. Hannibal was there, sucking lightly at his skin to leave little marks of ownership upon it.

"You don't have to be alone, my dear Will." Will's version of Hannibal whispered temptation so sweetly to him. "I would have you."

Giving in fully to the fantasy of his own making, Will moaned, leaning back into the hard chest behind him that braced him up as a talented hand replaced his own, moving up and down the length of his shaft. Blunt nails skimming his underside with light scrapes all the way to his tip to circle the bulbous head of it. A groan escaped Will as a broad thumb, calloused rough from cooking, swiping across his sensitive head making Will's spine arch.

"Would you like that?" Hannibal breathed out the words soft and sweet as sin as he pressed down on the slit to gather up a pearly bead of pre-cum.  
Desperate to find more friction, Will bucked, begging out in pants for a quicker pace. His release was so close, a certain thing. He was stopped in his fraught attempts by a strong arm pressing him tight up against the toned body behind him. The feeling of firm muscles and powerful legs beneath him held Will securely in place as the maddeningly slow treatment of his sex continued.

"Patience, dear boy. If you rush satisfaction, your release will be lacking. Like all good things, one must take their time in their construction." was mouthed into his skin. Will felt the teasing smile being pressed against his neck, the slight upturn of thin lips that kissed and lapped at his nape, reddening the skin there. "You wouldn't want to disappoint me, would you, Will?"

Arching again, Will gasped for air, reaching back to card his fingers through locks of ashen hair, like strange warm silk between his fingers. He gripped at them as he fought against his own climax, letting the doctor direct him in pleasure as he did in cooking.

"So good for me." Hannibal whispered as he freed a hand to bring slick fingers up Will's lips, slipping the digits between his chapped flesh. He allowed Will to suck off the tang of his desire, swapping out pre-cum for salvia. All the while, Hannibal continued to slowly pump his hand, working Will over until all he could do was gasp and flail against him.

"Spread yourself for me." came the next order and Will let it happen, easing his legs apart as the hand he had been sucking on slid down his body. Past the hand still wrapped around his cock to drift teasingly behind the velvet of his balls and perineum, pushing between the mounds of his ass to circle the tight ring of his entrance.

"Is this what you want from me, Will?" Hannibal asked in that way of his that he wasn't really doing so. Before he could answer, Will felt the burn of a finger breaching him. It seemed to only increase the building heat in his belly, his pleasure a liquid thing demanding release.

"No." Will said with a shudder, his body quaking under the administrations of the man behind him, working him open slowly. A second finger joining the first to open Will up wider, curious touch diving deeper into his heat.

"I want." Will gasped, feeling the digits touch base with his pleasure, making him jerk as they brush against a sensitive spot within him.

"I want more than this." Will managed out between broken breaths, leaning back to let his head rest against a powerful shoulder as Hannibal moved all around him, fanning out fingers within him in exploration while continuing the steady pump of his swollen member. The movements dragged moan after moan out the empath's mouth, shamelessly loud and wanton in their sound.

"You can have that." was promised as a third finger pressed into him, painfully stretching the ring of flesh that tried to accommodate the intrusion. The slick from his spit did little to alleviate the burn of friction as Hannibal found his prostate again and again, mercilessly working the nerves over with the clever twist of his fingertips. Vision starting to white out, Will could feel he was almost there, inching closer and closer to that finish he craved with every fiber of his being, with each push inside of him.

"I want…" Will clenched his eyes shut, crying out as his orgasm claimed him at long last, something taunt in his loins finally giving. In that moment between spaces of thinking and feeling, Will felt so whole, complete almost with Hannibal in him and around him.

Panting, Will opened his eyes to find his illusion shattered as he let himself see the faces of his furry audience. His pack seemed concerned about some of the noises their alpha had been making moments before. Will counted himself lucky that he didn't have neighbors.

With the awkward embarrassment that came from having pets witness human behavior, Will pulled his fingers out of himself and took a hand coated with his own spent off of his cock. He may have lost the vision, but not his train of thought.

"I want more than sex."

End Notes: Did you like that? There's more to come. C: Let us know your thoughts in the comments; we love to hear from our readers, it encourages more smut to turn up in the chapters. ;D

Also, make sure you check out DarkmoonSigel at u/2691499/DarkmoonSigel


	5. 05: Fifth Chapter

Written by: DarkmoonSigel and SKU-7314977

Authors Notes: Who wants more flustered Will? How about some sexy cannibal? Team Sassy Science? Read on!

We do not own Hannibal

Beta read by: DarkmoonSigel

05: Fifth Course

"You shaved…"

Price sounded almost startled at his own observation, bringing the attention of his fellow scientists down upon the profiler as he entered the room. Will stared back at them wide eyed like a deer caught in headlights as he was examined as closely as any specimen by them. Zeller was the next to comment, walking around his work station to get a better look at the empath.

"What are you all cleaned up for?" Zeller asked with a smirk, looking down from Will's smooth jaw to the two piece navy blue suit. "You're wearing a suit and everything."

"Do you have a date?" Price asked, picking up the conversation again right where it had been left off. He abandoned his post to join Zeller in their newest investigation, the case of the socially stunted profiler.

"No, I do not have a date." Will said a little too quickly to be believable, his reply laced with venom. He was feeling unappreciative of the friendly hazing.

"You know Will, you clean up pretty good." Katz said, making Will almost groan out loud as she was the next to approach. To his chagrin, she gave Will an appreciative once over. "Is it anyone we know?"

"I'm just going to have dinner with Dr. Lecter." Will argued, suddenly regretting his decision to dress up for the occasion. He didn't like the attention his change of attire had gained him.

"I honestly thought Dr. Bloom was more your type, but Lecter has his charms as well, I suppose." Price shrugged, looking unsurprised by the empathy's admittance. The remark earning himself a questioning look from Zeller, Price rolling his eyes at the man's ignorance.

"It's not like that." Will said desperately, suddenly feeling like he was back in high school and a hell of lot more popular than he had been in real life. He actually had someone else to argue with about the parameters of his relationship like a pubescent teen, instead of just observing such interactions from others. "We're friends and he's my doctor. It would never work."

Even as the words left his own mouth, Will hoped they were a lie. Hannibal wasn't officially his doctor in any capacity. "He is teaching me how to cook. It's just something to help me relax in the evenings, to get my head away from the cases that keep me up." he said.

"Yes I can see how that would entail you needing to shave and dress in a suit." Zeller teased with a wide grin, loving how Will began to shift from foot to foot. "Are you bringing him flowers too?"

"Why? Are you jealous, Z?" All attention turned to the head of the behavioral science department as Jack Crawford entered the room, effectively bringing the joking to an abrupt halt. "I'm sure Dr. Lecter would love to know he's gaining himself a fan club with the FBI's forensic division."

"Aw, come on Jack, it's just some harmless teasing. How often do you get to see Will all cleaned up?" Zeller defended even as he retreated. He ignored Beverly's and Price's smirks as he quickly returned to his workstation to hide behind trace evidence lest he face any real wrath from the agent.

"How Will chooses to dress and his relationships outside of this office are nobody's business but his own. So long as he's catching killers, I don't care if he's dating a fish." Jack stated with a certain firmness. Will read between the lines, knew that Jack giving him consent to do whatever he liked, ethical or no. As long as it kept him stable enough to catch him the Ripper, Jack was saying without stating it openly that he would not interfere. Will wasn't sure whether he appreciated the unspoken permission or not. "Now tell me what you've got on the case." 

_-_-_

If he hadn't felt ridiculous about it before, Will certainly did now, especially after his conversation with the science division. He glanced from the road to the bouquet of flowers sitting in his passenger seat, the bright colored blooms no longer seeming like the good idea he had envisioned when placing the order that morning.

"He's flirting with me." Will reminded himself, gripping the steering wheel tighter as he pulled into the doctor's driveway. "I'm just letting him know that I feel the same way. He's flirting with me."

Unless he had imagined the kiss, it was a distinct possibility. Would it really be so farfetched for his overactive imagination to play tricks on him? To let him think that a casual brush was something more when he was obviously so starved for human attention?

Eyes wide with worry, Will touched his shaved face, terror running through him as he stared over at the flowers, "What the hell am I doing, Hannibal is my friend." he chided himself, looking at the suit in open dismay. He'd spent most of his morning sticking the material with tape to remove the numerous dog hairs that tenaciously clung to it. He had even ironed out the wrinkles that had gathered from lack of use.

"And he's unofficially my psychiatrist. What the hell am I thinking?" Will said, beginning to panic. He looked again from the flowers to his suit. "Is there even a way for me to explain this?"

"Might I ask what it is you are trying to explain?" said the one person Will wanted to see most and not at all. The profiler jumped as Hannibal's smoothly accented voice sounded through the crack in his driver's side window. Will wanted to wrap his head around the steering wheel, knowing that Hannibal was standing right there, watching him spazz out. He certainly didn't want to turn to meet his host's questioning look. Instead, Will focused on the bouquet in the seat next to him as though the flowers might disappear if he willed it to hard enough.

"I see you picked up some flowers. Would you like to bring them inside and have me put them in some water until you can get them home? I'd hate for such a lovely bouquet to go to ruin waiting in your car." Hannibal offered, providing a comfortable cover for the empath. He would let Will decide when he would reveal his true intentions, and it would do him no good to frighten poor Will away before he had a chance to ensnare him.

Knowing he couldn't live the rest of his life in his car parked at Hannibal's house, Will tentatively picked up the flowers. Hannibal was amused to see Will lift the bouquet from the seat as though the blooms might bite him. Emerging from his car at long last, Will turning to face his host, looking as if he were about to be dragged out into the street and shot.

"I do apologize if I startled you Will. I just noticed my missing paper from this morning had been thrown into one of the bushes. I decided to collect it when I found you here." Hannibal smiled, lifting the newspaper in question that someone was not going to be tipped for. It wasn't a common occurrence so the paperboy would not be gracing his table.

"Do you having something special planned for this evening after our lesson?" Hannibal asked, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. The mannerism was all Hannibal's own, his understated way of expressing curious interest. Will loved how often it pertained to him.

"Uh…" Will tried to swallow, his mouth suddenly too dry to work properly as he tried to find the appropriate words. "They're…"

Will thought back to all the lingering touches, Hannibal's insistence of dressing him in his apron and rolling up his sleeves, the way the man's mouth had brushed against his jaw…

And then Will remembered his own over active imagination and a skin hunger that was awakening in full force.

"No, I have nothing planned." Will managed out weakly yet still falling short. The now familiar pressure of Hannibal's hand on his lower back grounded Will despite his growing trepidation. He was being led into the house with bouquet being held loosely in hand, and Will was fine with that. Will found he was fine with Hannibal taking over for a moment while he collected himself.

Pleased that Will hadn't dressed himself for some other event, or for someone else that evening such as a date with the dismissive Alana Bloom, Hannibal allowed himself to appreciate the sight before him. Admiring the apparel Will had selected for that night, Hannibal knew Will had kept his tastes in mind while dressing himself. He had even gone so far as to shave his face. The skin was irritated with the slightest blush of razor burn, Will obviously using a cheap disposable blade without any sort of moisturizer afterward. He had refrained from using his horrible aftershave though, something Hannibal was grateful for.

Will had even gone so far as to adorn himself in a suit, as unfitted as the cheap polyester was. The poor representation of menswear did nothing favorable for Will's slimming form. Hannibal noted from his place behind the empath that the pants hung too loose from his hips, missing the sharp curve of them entirely as the excess material bunched at the belt and dropped down like a sack around him. The shirt was worn in much the same way with too much fabric tucking into a lean waist, billowing out from a beautiful frame. The unnecessary weight loss had made Will far too slender for his formalwear.

Not bothering to disappoint himself by analyzing the faults of the suit's jacket, Hannibal took it by the shoulders to ease it down arms and off Will entirely. Despite all its sins against tailored material, it was folded neatly to hang over the back of a chair beside his own.

"You have dressed yourself quite well for this evening for having no other plans but our own." Hannibal couldn't resist pointing out, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his lips. It was very apparent that Will had made the effort for him.

"It's nothing," Will muttered, brushing off the compliment. Studying his sleeves, he refused to meet eyes with his host. For his inattentiveness, Hannibal was able to take the bouquet away from Will with ease.

"I'm afraid I must disagree." Hannibal said as he caught the profiler by the chin, forcing their gazes to meet for the first time. Stormy blue eyes flashed and danced skittishly as Will tried to discern what was happening between them, calm sanguine eyes giving him nothing back to go on. "You are striking this evening, and I will not allow such brilliance to be downplayed."

Will's breath caught in his throat to rattle about there as a thumb traced the plush of his lower lip, the gesture more forward than the ones from previous nights. The feeling of intimacy was like being drugged to him as Hannibal's ever present calm seeping in under his skin, Will leaning into the touch despite himself.

"I bought the flowers for you." Will heard the words come out of his mouth before he could think better of it. As embarrassing at it was, it made Hannibal look away from him, freeing Will out from under those strange eyes. Will found he could breathe again while Hannibal studied the flowers with that intense gaze of his. Looking down at his shoes, Will found that he didn't want to see Hannibal's reaction to such an effeminate gift.

"These are lovely," Hannibal said after a moment, the compliment making Will feel weak in the knees. He needed to move to avoid falling over and making a fool of himself, so Will chose to dart toward the kitchen instead of responding. The bouquet would have been considered an odd mixture to those who didn't know what they were looking at. Humble snowy white carnations were paired beside magnificent coral roses and exotic saffron crocus, almost startling in their vivid shade of luminescent purple. The array was rounded out by delicate white violets, looking almost fragile against the other blooms.

"I can tell that you selected each blossom with intent." Hannibal smiled at Will's back, following the profiler as he tried to escape. With Will's eyes conveniently forward and having no other witness there, Hannibal allowed his fingers to trace over the soft petals of a coral colored rose.

An alarm sounded in Will's head, the man freezing in his examination of the ingredients that had been laid out in abundance for that night's lesson. There was no way in hell Hannibal knew what he was trying to say with flowers. It was practically a dead art form that Will only knew about due to a book in a Southern aunt's possession and too much time on his hands as a kid.

"I'm sorry?" Will asked a baguette, hoping that he had misheard his host.

"Each of these blossoms was selected with purpose." Hannibal reiterated, allowing the profiler to hold his back to him for the time being so that he may examined the blossoms further at his leisure. Will seemed to be quite taken with his choice of bread for some reason.

"I was unaware that you were familiar with the language of flowers." Hannibal admitted his own mild surprise to the profiler's insights. The sudden tension that painted itself between Will's shoulder blades stated that he was just as surprised. Obviously, Will hadn't counted on him knowing the language of flowers as well.

"A good example would be the carnations you selected." Hannibal explained, knowing it was unnecessary as he delighted in watching Will's reactions as he went into detail about the invitation hidden within the bouquet. "They are white, a symbol for innocence and pure love."

Hannibal watched as a delicate shade of crimson began seep into Will's ears, the color moving steadily downward to brightly paint his neck. "While the roses you selected," he continued, taking slow steady steps around the kitchen island so that they could face one another. "Symbolize enchantment and desire." He stopped in front of Will, waiting for the other man to meet his eyes.

"T-they're…just flowers," Will stammered, cursing the florist as he tried to find reason behind the selection. Nothing came to mind. He refused to meet Hannibal's intense gaze though the man was standing in front of him obviously wanting some kind of acknowledgment for his presence. Will worried that he might find disgust held within those earthen eyes that looked red in the right light.

"You replaced the traditional baby's breath with saffron blossoms and white violets." Hannibal said quietly enough it made Will's reluctant gaze rise at last to meet his own. "They are beautiful. What they are saying even more so."

"Let's get this comedy of errors on my part over with then. What do the last two tell you?" Will managed out through a too tight throat. This backfire served him right for trying to be clever.

"The saffron denoted mirth, though I am confused that they are being paired with the violets. Do you wish to take a chance with me, Will, to find some happiness together? Is this a sweet overture on your part or a friendly joke?" Hannibal teased.

For once, Hannibal allowed Will to see the truth behind his words, and the pleasure he felt in receiving such an intimate gift of intention. Unable to form the words with his desert dry mouth Will nodded, his gaze falling back to the baguette on the table top.

"I believe the answer to that is 'yes'." Will muttered, resuming the renewed interest in carbohydrates of French origin.

"You're nervous," Hannibal observed, taking some mercy on Will to drop their met gazes so that he could place the blooms in an art deco inspired crystalline vase. Feeling triumphant in small victories though the war had yet to be won, Hannibal even went so far as to replace the table decoration he had set out beforehand with the new one provided.

"I think that perhaps we should allow ourselves to indulge in a drink while we cook this evening." Hannibal soothed, Will's form taut and clearly ill at ease. Taking his time while retrieve two glasses to give Will some space, Hannibal made a show of pouring the last of the zinfandel Will had brought for him their first cooking lesson between the glasses. It was an unequal division, Hannibal allowing extra to flow into Will's own.

With a nod, Will accepted the drink, raising the glass to begin taking a generous mouthful of lush red wine before remembering himself. Cheeks dotting with renewed color, Will forced himself to take a painfully small sip instead. Despite the meager amount, the sharp taste of alcohol flooded his mouth, doing little to help alleviate its dryness.

"Thank you." Will mumbled into the crystal, his stomach turning with the worry of irreversible mistakes and actions he could not take back.

"I don't know what I was thinking when I picked up the flowers. I'm sorry for being so forward." Will was able to manage out more words after a second sip, his tongue still feeling like sandpaper. Nervously, he watched as Hannibal sipped at his own glass of Lust, walking around the length of the counter to come stand behind him much as he had so many times before recently. Disrupted line of sight should have put Will as ease, not made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

As Will touched the wineglass's lip to his mouth to drain the vessel of its ruby liquid contents all in one go, there was nothing familiar about the hand that turned his face and caught his stained mouth. The gasp of surprise that parted his lips was taken full advantage of as the taste of black fruit, spice, and wine named after sin flooded his mouth. A clever tongue pushed past his lips to deepen the stolen kiss, dragging a moan from the empath before the contact was lost just as abruptly as it had been started. Will's mouth swallowed air instead of a wine infused tongue, only tasting regret now in its absence. Hannibal's hands on his shoulder kept Will in place though, preventing from turning toward the mouth he sought.

"You never need to apologize for a gift, sweet William." were the words spoken into his ear, made low and rough by Hannibal's unique accent, the wording deliberate. They made Will freeze in place, Hannibal's breath hot against his skin. "I will never reject you."

In the language of flowers, Sweet William meant 'perfection'. Another kiss ghosted the hinge of his jaw, the smooth skin tingling from the sensation with his usual scruff gone.

"What's happening between us?" Will made himself ask even if it ruined the mood between them. He needed clarification, needed to know for sure what was going on. He was tired of guessing and shadow play. Dances in the dark were a sure fire way of tripping over one's own feet.

Instead of answering right away, Hannibal took Will's empty wine glass out of his hand, moving over to the sink to hand wash the fine crystal with great care. It left Will to tremble like a leaf in the wind between the storm of despair and hope.

"You expressed an interest, and I am reciprocating your feelings." Hannibal said slowly. He glanced over at the profiler in time to catch a glimpse of embarrassment in those blue eyes before they were diverted away. "Does that bother you?"

Feeling terribly exposed and looking it as well, Will was quiet a long moment, letting the question sit heavily in the air between them. Its duration extended long enough even Hannibal couldn't ignore its presence. "If I have misinterpreted your feelings…" Hannibal began to say, biting back a soft sigh.

"I'm interested." Will interrupted, throwing good manners to the wayside. For once, Hannibal found that he didn't mind the breach of etiquette.

"But people don't…" Will trailed off becoming lost in memories of Alana and an ill-fated kiss that should have never been. The rejection that had come afterward had cut him to his core.

"…I'm broken goods." Will finished, staring at the kitchen counter instead of the man he was addressing. Will wished he had more to offer, both verbally and relationship wise, but as always, found himself lacking.

"Not broken." Hannibal corrected gently, ending the space between them. He reached out to cup Will's flushed face in broad cool hands. "You are different from your peers, true, but that does not mean you are broken."

"I'm unstable then. I…" Will tried to amend to find himself speaking into lips that fell upon his own. He was cut off but found himself glad for the interruption.

"You are unique, just as I am. It is our differences that cause society to mark us as outcasts and force our solitude upon us. That does not make you broken Will, or unstable. It makes you exceptional." Hannibal told him in all certainty, allowing himself to one last kiss before releasing Will entirely.

Hannibal found it rather easy to tie an apron around Will when he was in a state of shock, the good doctor continuing their new tradition by looping the string snugly around him before starting in on his shirt sleeves. Watching Hannibal through half lidded eyes, Will offered up all the resistance of a doll.

"Like the Mona Lisa, you are a portrait of mysterious perfection. A masterpiece meant to be sought after and its meaning questioned by apprentices and critics alike. Altering yourself for other people would be like defacing art, similar to a novice attempting to correct Michelangelo's brushstrokes on the Sistine Chapel. " Hannibal said, catching Will's shirt cuffs in hand next to continue their ritual as he neatly rolled the fabric up to sit snugly at the elbows

Catching the stunned man in his arms for another kiss, something quick and chaste, Hannibal turned Will toward the counter, his hands settling low on the man's lean hips not so innocently. Keeping Will close but facing away, Hannibal found that the profiler was temptation itself made flesh. Now that he had started kissing Will, Hannibal found he didn't want to stop, already leaning in to graze his lips against the nape of Will's neck.

"Now, my statue of David." Hannibal murmured against Will's flesh, no longer bothering to hide the extent of his interest. "Let us begin dinner."

End Notes: Hello again, we hope you're still loving the story as much as we are. Let us know what you think in the comments and we'll be seeing you again soon with another update.

Also, make sure you check out DarkmoonSigel at u/2691499/DarkmoonSigel


	6. 06: Sixth Course

Written by: DarkmoonSigel and SKU-7314977

Authors Notes: Last chapter, this chapter and the next chapter were all supposed to be one chapter…then we realized that it was getting to be ridiculously long and we needed to split it up…so…enjoy a read that's less than 10,000 words. XD

We do not own Hannibal

Beta read by: DarkmoonSigel

06: Sixth Course

Back to the safety of nodding because words were really hard things to come by at the moment, Will stared down at the assortment of ingredients laid out before him. He found his hands falling upon the ones that gripped the sharp curvature of his hips instead of the provided produce and implements.

"Dinner will consist of four courses this evening," Hannibal continued to speak against his flesh, teeth skimming the sensitive skin there as his hands took hold of Will's own, bringing them to the counter. "The first course of the evening will be minced rabbit mixed with goji berry served on Brie cheese melted over a red pepper herbed crostino."

Trying to pull his mind away from the mouth that danced over his skin, Will attempted to focus on the assortment of ingredients and cooking tools before them. "Are we making the ground meat?" he asked. To equal amounts of relief and dismay, Hannibal parted from him to start moving around ingredients.

"Not this evening." Hannibal answered, placing two bowls in front of Will, "I already have a portion of rabbit seasoned and minced for us. I prepared the meat confit style so it should be quite supple to work with."

Staring down at the finely chopped meat, Will tried to ignore how Hannibal could say 'supple' with such a straight face and still make it sound so lewd.

Taking the baguette in hand, Hannibal began slicing the crusty loaf at an angle, creating beautiful ovals of evenness without even really trying. Will knew he wouldn't be able to do that if there were a gun aimed at his head and his life depended on it.

"So, what am I doing with this while you work on the crostino?" Will asked, proud of himself for knowing that word, and even more so, for recognizing what Hannibal was making. It was the little victories in life after all. He turned his attention to the bowl of dried berries that he assumed were goji. To him, they looked like really bright red cranberries.

"I would like you to finely chop up the goji berries." Hannibal asked, watching as Will picking up a knife in answer to start the task set out for him without any further prompting. "Goji has a natural spice to it that is sweetly tart. Some might compare it to a cranberry, but I find its flavor lies more between strawberry and raspberry."

Will cooking in his kitchen was a beautiful sight to behold in Hannibal's opinion, one he delighted in knowing he would be privileged to observe again and again. By the time he was done, Will would be preparing the select rude right alongside him. Like a performance piece, they would move in harmony and growing confidence with one another in his grand kitchen as they orchestrated a magnificent feast together.

At some point, Hannibal knew he would have to show off his apprentice's growing skills with a banquet once Will mastered a little bit more of the crafts in and out of the kitchen. Presenting Will before he was ready would be detrimental. The empath hid far too many of his attributes out of shame and fear of judgment as it was. Hannibal could see no reason to add another terror to that repertoire.

"Should I just mix it all together?" Will asked, skin still flushed and eyes averted as he focused on the meal ahead of them.

"You can mix them together once you have finished with the goji. We need the flavor to spread evenly throughout." Hannibal answered, brushing his baguette slices with seasoned oil before sliding them into the oven. He was already fully assembling the appetizer and its timing with everything else in his mind. After the base was ready, the brie cheese would be layered on and placed back it the oven just long enough to melt it. It would be finished with the meat and goji mixture with just a graceful drizzle of lemon poppy seed oil. "The crostino will be ready shortly."

Appetizer completion envisioned in mind, Hannibal turned just in time to watch Will mush all the ingredients together like a child with cookie dough. Instead of lightly mixing the rabbit and berry together so that everything was present but could still be tasted individually, Will squashed the brie cheese into the meat and dried fruit. It was a small torture to behold and Hannibal knew he only had himself to blame for it. As novice as Will was, he should have realized the man wouldn't know the difference between the terms mix and blend. He had also taken the intuitive to add the cheese all on his own.

Chiding himself, Hannibal turned his full attention back to the present. His version of culinary suave Will would become reality soon enough. Rushing it would only lead to mishaps and misunderstandings. He would just have to be patient. Until then, mistakes would be made. Of course, he would have to intervene now if they wanted something edible, but Hannibal knew he had to preserve Will's sense of pride while doing so. It was important that the budding cook feel pride for his contribution. With all Will's flustered nervousness about their lessons, that was far more important than the dish itself.

"I'm doing this wrong." Will said as soon as he glanced up at Hannibal's face much to the older man's chagrin who knew his mask was still perfectly in place. Will was just getting better at looking through the cracks, and should not be underestimated.

Cursing quietly in his head, Hannibal watched in dismay as Will stepped away from his creation, regaining that lost look that Hannibal hoped he would eventually never see again. The empath was no doubt berating himself about ruining the mix further with his attempts. Not one to turn down an advantageous opportunity though, Hannibal revaluated the situation, quickly setting a timer for the toasting bread so that he could join Will.

"It is entirely my own fault. I should have been more clear." Hannibal easily took the blame, taking Will's hands in his own in an open gesture of comfort. The empath's skin was warmer than it had been before, flushed more so with embarrassment than arousal. Hannibal aimed to change that, only wanted Will to feel the latter of the two.

"You were trying to mix this as though it were a cake. You should have added the dried goji to the meat, and tossed it together just enough to mingle the flavors, not overwhelm each other." Hannibal explained, carefully stroking Will's fingers with his own to alleviate some of the hurt he knew his words would bring, intentional or not. "The Brie was meant to be left separate from it. It is a very mild cheese that pairs well with other ingredients, but its own flavor can get lost."

"Did I ruin it?" Will asked hesitantly, his eyes following the new paths Hannibal's fingers were drawing into his life lines.

"Calm yourself. All is not lost." Hannibal told him, leaving off the empath's hands so that he could touch Will's chin to tip the man's head back. He needed to show Will that he was not angry or annoyed. If anything, Hannibal felt amused.

"Sorry." Will muttered, shifting his eyes to the side so he wouldn't have to look at Hannibal who was having none of that nonsense. He leaned in close enough to touch their foreheads together, leaving Will no choice but to look straight at him or rudely close his eyes. To Hannibal's delight, his gaze were met.

"Will, you are still learning." Hannibal told him sternly. As a reward for the eye contact, he let his lips press against Will's own to soften his tone. "Errors are to be expected, and minor ones are not worth apologizing for."

They were interrupted by the timer, Hannibal never having cause to curse the existence of crostinis before until now. Pressing one last kiss to Will's lips, Hannibal let him go to return his attention back to the oven and the toasting goods inside. He wanted to make sure at least one part of their first course turned out as it should as he pulled the tray of small golden rounds out to cool on the marble countertop.

"Let us not forget that necessity is the mother of invention. Now is a good a time as any to show you a few tricks." Hannibal said as he retrieved a food processor. Putting the contents of Will's folly into it, he blended the mixture smoothly together, much to Will's look of horror.

"What are you doing?" Will asked cautiously, thrown for a loop. He thought mixing the things together was bad.

"We can not leave this lingering on the precipice. Think of it as a shove in a direction of our choosing. We can not undo what has been done so we shall free it from limbo for advancement to the next level." Hannibal said, scraping the blended mixture into a pastry bag with a star tip. With a practiced roll of his hands and wrists, the crostinis were soon topped with some stylized fluffy pâté before being transferred to their designated plating. The appetizer was finished off with some baby arugala and endive, and a graceful smattering of lemon poppy seed oil for garnish.

"So if you're going through Hell, keep going?" Will said warily as he admired Hannibal's creativity. The man had just turned a lost cause into something appetizing. Hell, it even looked pretty, the green of the vegetation and the gold of the oil contrasting nicely with the pink meat mousse and the red pepper speckled toast.

"A little overdramatic, but yes." Hannibal chuckled, catching Will at his waist to direct them toward their next course's preparations. Letting his hands linger longer than they should have, Hannibal knew that Will needed a boost to his waning confidence. "We shall begin the second course."

"And what's that?" Will asked, wanting to dig his heels in so that he could turn and run. Hannibal's hold upon him dissuaded him of this notion though, Will letting himself be led to the range.

"Our second course will be a wild mushroom soup with sherry and thyme." Hannibal answered, standing behind Will to make him add butter, oil and diced Vidalia onions to a large pot. All Will could do was watch as he was being made a puppet by a master working with his element. He found he didn't mind with Hannibal pressed flush to his back, their bodies moving in tandem with one another. It was almost like dancing.

"Or making love." Will's treacherous mind voiced, making his cheeks grow hot and red with sudden color. Will was grateful that Hannibal couldn't see his face or was in the position to notice the discomfiture of Will's front.

"The soup is not an overly complicated recipe…" Hannibal explained, pausing to touch his nose to Will's dark curls. He knew the empath would curl up and die if he knew that Hannibal's nose was keen enough to scent arousal. It was coming off of Will in waves, smelling better than any cologne Hannibal could have picked out for him. "…But timing is key for each ingredient."

Leaning over Will's shoulder as everything began to cook and simmer, Hannibal couldn't resist pressing his cheek to Will's own as he continued to explain. He loved the heat coming off of it.

"The onion needs to simmer in the butter and oil until it begins to turn clear and brown. When that occurs, usually taking about four minutes, we shall then add the garlic, like so." Hannibal said, tipping a small dish of finely minced cloves into the pot as he swayed them gently in place. "It mixes with the onion for another minute, and then we will add the mushrooms, thyme, salt and pepper for another four minutes."

Just as Will was beginning to relax into Hannibal's body, the chef stepped away to leave him there with his back cooling to the open air. A sense of panic creeping in on Will when he realized that he had been left in charge of the time sensitive dish. Hannibal busied himself with his own task by selecting a pan to place a beautiful looking tenderloin into it, soon rejoining Will at the range to stand side by side with him a moment later.

"If you leave me with this soup, I will ruin it." Will warned with a tone that sounded far calmer than he currently felt.

"Nonsense. You are doing fine on your own." Hannibal soothed, pressing a kiss to the tense profiler's temple as he began to sear the tenderloin.

"It is time to add the mushrooms. We are using a blend of cremini and shitake." Hannibal instructed much to Will's relief, using his tongs to indicate a bowl of sliced pale fungi to his right. "I hope you don't mind. I took the liberty of preparing most of our ingredients before you arrived. We have a large meal planned for this evening, and you have already proven you're more than capable with a knife."

"We used cremini the other night, didn't we?" Will asked, examining the mushrooms before pouring them into the pan. The one of the names rang a bell, making Will think back to the fish they had enjoyed yesterday. That dinner had been quick and easy, and he'd even managed to impress Hannibal while cooking it. He wondered if the doctor would appreciate something fresh and local. Maybe a fish from the river that ran by his house or some of the small game like pheasant or rabbit.

"Yes, we used the cremini in the meunière sauce." Hannibal said as he indicated a second small dish, making Will wonder just how many tiny bowls Hannibal had for keeping small measurements of spices in while cooking. "The thyme, salt, and pepper can be added with the mushrooms."

Quickly followed the command, Will stirred the spices into the simmering dish.

"In two more minutes, I want you to add the broth." Hannibal said, not bothering to look up as he removed the tenderloin from the pan to roll the beef in a shallow plate, coating it with something Will didn't recognize. Will watched as Hannibal placed the encrusted meat into a small roasting pan before depositing it in the oven.

"What's that?" Will asked, adding the broth as Hannibal changed out to a fresh pan and began what looked like a sauce of some sort.

"I am preparing a porcini mushroom encrusted tenderloin. It will be served with a bing cherry burgundy sauce, and accompanied by hasselback potatoes as a side. I am preparing the sauce now."

Glancing from his pan to the soup pot, he reduced the heat to a simmer. Leading Will back to the counter when he was down, Hannibal laid out two potatoes and a knife in front of Will on a cutting board.

"While the soup simmers, you can prepare the tenderloin's side." Hannibal said in answer to Will's questioning look.

"Why are we making so much?" Will asked, letting his hands be directed in the proper slicing of the tubers. before the heady sensation of the doctor's hands on his own was once again lost in favor of the simmering sauce pan.

"Because tonight we are celebrating," Hannibal answered, his tone light but sly around the edges.

"What are we celebrating?" Will asked in surprise before he thought better of it. He sincerely hoped it wasn't Hannibal's birthday.

"You. We are celebrating you." Hannibal said simply, smoldering maroon eyes turning to meet skittish blue to enjoy the complex look that played out through them. "And now we can extend that celebration to one of us."

Safely leaving the sauce to simmer for a time, Hannibal tugged at the nervous profiler until he was securely held within his arms. Letting his hands find the small of Will's back to hold the man close against him, Hannibal brought their lips together again. Achingly slow and gentle this time until he felt Will open up to him, a curious tongue darting forward to find his own and mingle with it.

Knife still in hand, Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal's neck, leaning into the kiss and deepening it. It was so easy to lose himself in the doctor, to let the stronger man take the lead, and guide him as they kissed and moved against one another. Will moaned when a leg pushed between his own, a firm thigh pressing up against his sex, making it stir in response.

"Hannibal." Will rasped out the man's name against thin lips that were softer than they looked, tightening his hold as he forgot about his hunger for food. An awakening appetite for skin tempted him to slid the blade of the knife down the back of the doctor's shirt and cut it from his body. It would be so simple to do, to slide the cool steel blade under expensive cotton and pull, letting the shredded material fall to the floor to reveal the toned muscle hidden beneath, the ones he kept feeling shifting against him. He could imagine it as easily as the pendulum's swing, taut honed muscles that showed off the sharp angles of a lean body, the thin layer of silvering hair that graced a broad chest leading a trail downward to ….

"You're very excited, sweet William." were the words that disrupted Will's fantasy. It was a swift reminder that reality was aligning itself with the imaginings of his mind, so perhaps he should pay attention. Will found his head was tilted back as a hand that was not his own palmed his 'excitement' though the tightening fabric of his pants.

"What should be done about that?" Hannibal asked, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh of Will's collarbone. The question left Will mute for a moment, too many answers rushing forward to the forefront to tangle up his tongue.

Before Will could answer intelligibly, the sound of a timer pulled them back into the here and now, reminding the pair that they were in a kitchen and a feast was being constructed around them.

"A question to be answered later then." Hannibal deemed, letting his fingers measure the girth of the swelling sex between them before releasing the empath entirely from his hold to begin another step with the soup. If not for the slight smile on his face and bulge in his front, Will would have said that Hannibal looked as if he were entirely unaffected by what was happening between them.

Holding the lip of the counter to stop his knees from giving out beneath him, Will fought to find an answer to a very irregular social dilemma. What do you do when your not-quite-therapist, not-quite-boyfriend arouses you in the kitchen during a cooking lesson?

Steadying his breath, the answer came to him in the form of the said not-quite-anything person of interest untying Will's apron and dropping elegantly to his knees. Whatever Hannibal needed to do with the soup had been handled and the potatoes forgotten for now as Hannibal busied himself with the newest task at hand. Palming Will's growing erection as he went, his focus was as dedicated to lowering the empath's pants to examine his waking flesh as he had been in the preparation of the delicate sauce.

Will's cock twitched as he watched sanguine eyes alight with a hunger he was all too familiar with as they examined the feast before them. A broad tongue flicking a weeping head to linger over the slit, making Will's head reel and his knees buckle as his precum was so delicately sampled. It must have passed whatever standards had been set to it for powerful hands caught Will by his hips. They helped to keep Will up as he steadied himself. He found that he needed all the help he could get, tightening his grip on the counter as hot breath continued to ghost over his swelling length.

"Careful." Hannibal mouthed into the meat with just the hint of teeth. Will didn't how he made a concerned warnings sound so filthy, that skilled tongue finding his tip again. The slick muscle circled his bulbous tip to gather another pearlescent drop, swallowing it down before making care sound like lewdness again "I'd hate for you to fall."

Will tightened his grip upon the counter to make his knuckles bleach when Hannibal's tongue slid down his cock's underside to lave attention to the sensitive skin of his balls. Choking on air that didn't know if it was coming or going, Will watched with mouth agape as Hannibal pulled in the loose skin of his pouch with his lips to work it over carefully with his teeth and soften it with his tongue.

Air left like it was punched out of Will's lungs when Hannibal left off his tasting to swallow him completely down from tip to root, opening his throat to accommodate his sizable mouthful.

Gasped desperately in an attempt to keep breathing, a hand left the counter to tangle in lengths of ashen hair, seeking an anchor of some sort. Will had not been prepared for this, the painfully slow administrations of Hannibal's handling.

A lifetime of disappointment left the empath expecting very little good to occur within his life, especially when in regard to relationships with other people. At best, he had hoped for a date with Hannibal that wasn't too horribly awkward. At the worst, a polite rejection followed by a referral to another therapist. The image of Hannibal on his knees with his cock in mouth, swallowing him down to make him to make him cry out and buck, had not crossed Will's mind.

With a surprisingly firm grip, Hannibal kept Will's hips at a standstill, making the man above him cry out at the loss of movement as hands prevented from pushing into the warm mouth that surrounded him.  
With a tortuously slow rhythm, Hannibal bobbed his head as he worked Will's dick with the gentle motions. Letting his teeth gently graze the sensitive skin of his member as he traveled upward to make the empath jump, Hannibal swept his tongue over his slit. Keeping that sensitive tip in his mouth, Hannibal hollowed out his cheeks, receiving another tormented cry before sinking back down to take in all of Will again.

"Ha-Hann." Will stammered out. It was all the warning Will could manage before the growing pressure down below became too much. Mounting pleasure made low things in Will's body tighten and convulse. When Hannibal started to hum, it sounded the beginning to Will's end, his orgasm forced from him in such a rush it left him dizzy and disorientated.

His senses muffled in the whitened film of bliss, Will was aware enough to feel Hannibal greedily swallowing his spent down, every drop of his essence milked out of his shaft. In a haze, Will watched Hannibal lick his cock clean, making him shudder as the oversensitive skin was suckled, before Hannibal tucked him neatly back inside his pants.

Still licking his lips as he rose to his feet, Hannibal wore the superior look of a cat with stolen cream, his satisfaction a tangible thing to Will. A kiss was pressed to slack lips from the smug predator, Will tasting himself on Hannibal's tongue like strange brine.

Will staggered when he was released suddenly, the profiler barely managing to catch himself on the counter in time. He watched as Hannibal retrieved a fresh apron to once again tie it around Will's waist for him. The only sign of their explicit activities were Hannibal's ruffled hair, the silvering locks pushed attractively forward.

Cat having stolen his tongue, Will stare back at Hannibal wide eyed, unsure of how to proceed now that this sort of thing had happened. He didn't want to misstep yet he definitely wanted to reciprocate. Will knew it wasn't his decision to make though, not the way Hannibal was looking at him. Not when Hannibal leaned in close to overwhelm his personal space again and make his head light, purring words into his ear.

"Are you ready to resume dinner?"

End Notes: Thanks for reading, please leave a review. C:


	7. 07: Seventh Course

Written by: DarkmoonSigel and SKU-7314977

Authors Notes: Eat your dinner.

07: Seventh Course

"Are you ready to resume dinner?"

Weak kneed with pleasure, Will licked his lips and nodded, unsure of what to say. He made sure he was balanced enough to support himself though before stepping away from the counter to stare foggily down at the sliced up potatoes. Hannibal purring senseless words at him certainly wasn't helping with any sort of recovery.

"When you are ready, I want you to thoroughly rinse the potatoes to remove any excess starch, and then cover them in oil." Hannibal instructed, washing his hands. Will's confusion was a beautiful thing to experience firsthand. As much as he wanted to lick the taste of Will's musk and salt off of his fingers, Hannibal strove to keep the profiler off balance by acting like everything was normal. "Be sure you spread out the oil evenly between the slices, otherwise they will not separate properly."

Satisfied with the soup and his sauce's progression, Hannibal dropped the heat down to keep them to temperature. "Then place them in a pan so that they may join the tenderloin in the oven." he said in such a casual manner it made Will's back teeth grind together. It was almost enough to make Will question his reality. Maybe he had just lost time and imagined a blowjob…

Forcing his mind back to the food to avoid traveling down a rabbit hole, Will followed the instructions with careful concentration. He fought to keep himself focused on the potatoes, and not on the man standing behind him. He didn't want to break apart the thin delicate slivers he had carved in the tubers. Placing the oiled potatoes into the pan, Will watched Hannibal whisk it away to join the rest of their entree in the oven.

"Now we may partake in the fruits of our labor." Hannibal smiled, removing his own apron. Feeling generous with the taste of Will still in his mouth, Hannibal gave the confused man a chance to undress himself for a change.

"Aren't we still cooking?" Will ventured, feeling it was safer for his gaze to settle on the oven instead of on Hannibal. Following his example, Will quickly took off his apron to have it taken from him by his host who neatly folded it for him. Belated, Will realized he must not have been moving quickly enough. Invading his personal space once again, Hannibal was there all too soon to assist him, rolling down Will's cuffs for him, and helping the man slide into his atrocious suit jacket.

"It is all about timing, my dear Will. By the time we finish our appetizer, the tenderloin will be ready to come out of the oven. We will enjoy our soup while it cools. Upon finishing our second course, our tenderloin will be the perfect temperature for consumption, and the potatoes succulent and crisp."

Before Will knew what was going on, he was being seated at the dinner table with Hannibal pushing in the chair behind him. "What about dessert?" he asked, furrowing his brow to argue the issue with his water glass. "You mentioned four courses tonight."

"Yes, the panna cotta." Hannibal answered as he carried over a pair of wine glasses and the first of their courses.

"It is an Italian dessert that is gelatin based which needs a number of hours to set. I'm afraid I made our dessert this morning along with the rabbit. In light of your gift though, I feel that a few of the toppings may have to be changed from what I originally planned." Hannibal said. He glanced over at the flowers with a pointed look before serving the appetizers to watch Will blush in his peripheral.

"So we begin our evening with some lovely red pepper and herb encrusted crostinos topped with an airy pâté made of seasoned rabbit, brie cheese, and goji berries." Hannibal reiterated. Will watched Hannibal as he closed his eyes and lifted his wine glass to his nose, sampling the pale golden liquid's fragrance before tasting it.

"Paired with a glass of Gewürztraminer and prepared by you." Hannibal breathed out. Looking perfectly content with the food and wine pairing, he turned his attention back to Will who was watching his play of fingers over the wine glass's stem instead of his eyes.

"You did most of the work on this, pulling it back from the brink and all." Will corrected, sampling the crunchy d'oeuvre. He smiled around the bit of food, before tasting his own wine to find it complemented well even with his undeveloped palette. "But this is really good."

"You did just as much of the work this evening as I did. I simply did more of the prep work beforehand than on previous nights." Hannibal soothed, though he did not deny saving the tasty treat from a dreadful fate of having lumpy texture and ill blended flavors. "You are still learning, Will. As you become more confident in the kitchen, I will leave more and more of the cooking in your capable hands. There will come an evening when I am the one who stands behind the island and watches you cook."

If he had his way anytime soon, Hannibal would be observing Will's abilities with a bone saw as well. He had a feeling that Will would be good with power tools and the finer points of body disposal.

"That could take a long time." Will smiled crookedly, offering an awkward laugh that sounded weird even to him. Will made himself take another drink of his wine to steady himself, mind still reeling from their arrangement, this conversation, and everything else that had happened in between.

"I certainly hope that it does." Hannibal murmured, letting his fingers slid along the stem of his wine glass in a rather suggestive manner. "I've been enjoying my evenings in your company, and I look forward to many more."

Lost for words, Will felt relieved when his plate was gathered up and whisked away to the kitchen, an internal alarm obviously telling the doctor that it was time he removed the meat from the oven. Given his moment of privacy, Will hastily swallowed down the last of his wine, hoping to find so courage at the bottom. He jumped when the empty glass was whisked away by quick hands to be replaced by another, the new wine glass more rounded in it bulb to accommodate the properties of the bright red wine within.

"Sip this one, Will. It is wine, not whiskey." Hannibal said, letting his lips graze the shell of a reddening ear to nip at its warm edge. It made Will squeak and turn around him his chair to find his tormenter already disappearing again back into the kitchen.

"Also created by you, our second dish is a wild mushroom soup with sherry and thyme accented with a drizzle of white truffle oil and bacon. It's accompanied by a young but exciting Pinot Noir from Marlborough." Hannibal explained when he soon returned with some stylish bowls in hand.

"You're really giving credit where none is due." Will tried to correct. He received a secondary nip for his troubles as the doctor leaned over his shoulder to place a bowl down, catching Will's ear neatly between his teeth.

"You have been of great assistance to me this evening in preparing a grand meal. Do not downplay your contributions. It not only insults you, but me as well." Hannibal said in a more stern tone than before, enough so that Will carefully kept his eyes on his soup.

Touching his ear, Will decided that perhaps he would save his flesh from future abuse and hold his tongue. Instead of commenting further, Will examined the artistic swirls of gold against the pale soup, dusted with the rustic red dots of bacon decorating its surface. It was a simple touch made by a flick of the wrist and some crumbling, but the effect of it seemed to elevate the dish to something found in five star restaurants.

Not that Will would expect to find anything less coming from Hannibal's kitchen, but he was pretty damn positive that his greatest contribution to this particular dish was a little stirring. That was mainly due to his attentions being turned elsewhere during its main preparation. Will was socially aware enough to realize that popping chub at the dinner table was not seen as good manners so he held his tongue, thought about baseball and dead kittens, and busied himself tasting the thick broth.

"This is delicious." Will admitted to his own surprise. He had somewhat lost his appetite for mushrooms after seeing them being grown row on row from bodies.

"No matter how many times I feed you, you always seem surprised to try something from my kitchen and find it tastes good. Why is that?" Hannibal asked, sipping his wine to let the flavors mingle together on his palette.

"Comparatively, most things you eat on a regular basis are strange to me. I eat fish I catch at least twice a week, and I can't tell you how often I eat something instant." Will shrugged, leaving the 'when he remembered to eat at all' left unsaid. His ill fitting clothing spoke enough about that for him.

"With all this rich food and new flavors, I don't recognize most of what you put in front of me." Will continued to answer in all honesty, knowing that Hannibal would appreciate him being so open.

"In that case, I am grateful to you for allowing me the chance to broaden your palette." Hannibal said in a thoughtful sort of tone as he gathered up the dishes. Before Will could get a good read on him, Hannibal disappeared into the kitchen once more, the sounds of quick preparation heard as he carved up the tenderloin and dressed potatoes.

Leaving his place at the table, Will followed after his host and teacher, coming to stand behind the man as he crumbled blue cheese over the fanned slivers of steaming potatoes. The expensive cheese melted with the residual heat so that it pooled in the potato, promising cheesy perfection coating every bite.

"Feeling the need to observe final presentation?" Hannibal asked, enjoying being the focus of Will's acute attention. The man's blue grey gaze were set on his hands, watching him create a masterpiece on each plate.

"If I'm learning, shouldn't I be present during all stages of preparation?" Will asked, studying how the plates were being meticulously arranged. All that was left to do was add the garnishing sauces.

"Of course, you are absolutely correct. What was I thinking?" Hannibal chuckled, pleased with Will's observation as he stepped just to the side, motioning Will forward. "You should be partaking in the final presentation as well. Please decorate our plates with a delicate ring of burgundy sauce around the medallions."

"I'm not steady enough for that. It'll get over everything." Will said, looking down in dismay in regard to the pan of thick crimson sauce and his own hands. He had only meant to observe, not construct. Will fleetingly wondered if he was being mocked.

"If your hands are steady enough to make a fishing lure, I believe that they are steady enough to make a ring of sauce." Hannibal countered easily, placing a hand to Will's hip in the hopes of soothing the distressed empath. He could smell the sharp sourness of stress starting to integrate itself into the sweeter scents of arousal coming off of Will. It was something he wanted to avoid, the odor of it making his nose prickle. "Relax Will, we are cooking, creating art together. There are no mistakes that cannot be fixed within my kitchen."

Feeling the slight tension of muscle beneath his hand relax or at least try to, Hannibal watched Will reach for the spoon. "Take the pan with you to the food. You will find it easier to control with less drips if you bring it with you." he said, keeping his voice even and low. Will seemed to respond best to that sort of tone. To Hannibal's inner delight, Will obediently did as he was told, just as he'd been doing all week. "Good, now create your design in one fluid motion."

Spilling several small drips of glossy red along the plate's edge, Will circled the first cutlet and then the second, cursing himself quietly for his errors.

Before a word about it could leave his lips, the corner of a towel wiped mishap cleanly away.

"Perfect." Hannibal complimented, pressing a kiss to his jaw to make the bare skin there tingle. Hannibal moved away from him before Will could comment or reciprocate though, the tease leaving Will's side to fiddle with wine. New glasses were brought forth, their bounty a far richer red than the Pinot Noir had been.

"Now we may dine on the entrée." Hannibal said, leaving Will to handle the dishes after making that announcement.

"At some point in between being a surgeon and a therapist, were you a cook?" Will asked, finding to his surprise that he was the one initiating the conversation for once. An honest curiosity coaxed the question from him as he followed closely behind with plates in hand. Setting them neatly down, Will retook his seat.

"No, I'm afraid I only prepare meals for myself and the company I choose to keep." Hannibal answered, watching as Will tasted the fruit of their labors. He already knew that the succulent meat of the pushy grocer would melt on the tongue, but he wanted to take in every aspect of Will's reaction.

Will took his time eating for once, allowing the flavors to settle over his tongue before letting the wine have its way with them. It was a long moment held between them before he could venture his next question, "Any professional schooling?" he asked, finding it hard to imagine someone becoming this skilled at home.

"As you know I was the proverbial orphan until I was adopted by my uncle Robertus. I gained a certain appreciation for food thanks to him and his wife's influence. I only really started to pursue an interest in creating dishes on my own while I was in medical school. I had to leave my home in Europe to study at John Hopkins, so it was a great comfort to me to do my own research on the matter. Like you, I had to learn through trail by error and testing out recipes. I studied cooking books right along side my medical tomes." Hannibal told Will without giving away too much. He couldn't resist dropping a few hints here and there though.

"That's incredible. I don't think I could manage your level of skill and dedication even if I'd spent half a decade in culinary school." Will said, all but moaning around another mouthful of meat. It was further proof to Hannibal that the grocer was serving a far greater purpose in death than he ever had selling spoiled produce in life.

"I am passionate about cooking. It is that passion which has driven me to perfecting it." Something about Hannibal's tone made Will glance up from his plate and over at his host. Swallowing hard, Will found Hannibal's gaze settled on the bouquet of fragrant and meaningful flowers, a curl turning up his thin lips as thoughts reflecting about those flowers meanings danced behind his eyes.

"There are many things within my life I have pursued with that same passion." Hannibal added, reaching out to touch the delicate blooms. He pulled a pair of silken petals from the coral roses to press them to his lips, the action of it almost like an indirect kiss.

"Is subtlety an art, Doctor Lecter?" Will asked. The question came out more flat than he would have liked. Uncertainty was robbing him of his courage and conversational skill. Will distracted himself by gathering up the empty plates from the table.

"It can be. It depends on who is performing it and for whom. Are you assuming that I am trying to be subtle?" Hannibal smiled into the petals, allowing someone else clear away the mess for once. He was confident in Will's abilities to rinse off plates and load the dishwasher how he liked it.

While Will was busy with that task, Hannibal returned to the kitchen to decorate their final course with chocolate ganache and strawberries carved into roses. He filled a pair of champagne flutes with Rosa Regala, a sparkling wine that was a stunning shade of cranberry in color. It tasted even better, light and sweet on the tongue.

"I might have inferred that." Will said, nervously licking his lips as memories of Hannibal's lips wrapped around his cock came into play. He could already feel his neck and ears beginning to warm up to uncomfortable levels, knowing that he was turning red around his edges.

"I don't believe I have been subtle this evening." Hannibal countered, the playful edge to his voice letting Will know that he had noticed the empath's blush. Dessert and wine were gathered up gracefully in hand, Hannibal more than ready to end this course so that they could move on to bigger and better things. One hunger had been filled. It was time to appease another. "If I recall correctly, I've actually been quite forward about my intentions in regard to you."

"You started it by playing with the flowers." Will fumbled for words. He had wanted Hannibal to be less opaque, and now that he was, Will didn't know what to do with himself. All he could manage to do was follow and hope that Hannibal was not leading him astray with false hope. "Talking about passion…"

Retaking his seat, Will found a single coral petal balanced atop the panna cotta like a strange flame. It was an invitation, a statement, and a declaration all in one. He looked up to meet Hannibal's strange eye, pitted glossy and dark with lust. Will left himself fall forward into that look, his mind opening up to any possibility presented to it from this point on.

"That was not an attempt at being subtle. Neither is this."

End Notes: Your kudo's are shoveling down dessert because they want to get to the good part, your comments are contemplating if its rude to skip it in favor of stealing Hannibal's pants and the authors are sipping a glass of Zinfandel Lust debating whether the readers deserve more porn or not.


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